Not What He Expected
by difficile
Summary: A Captain at the mercy of a Pirate and Thief? That's certainly one evening twisted into an interesting series of events. Basch/Balthier/Vaan.


**_A/n: For the lovely Original-Elfkin's birthday!_**

**_I love her._**

**_She draws me porn._**

**_I don't own Final Fantasy XII or else scenes like this would happen in shiny FMV graphics and the game would be rated AO._**

* * *

It started with Vaan. Bold and brazen and tanned by the desert sun, he was the first to offer a means of satisfaction to an itch Basch didn't know he had. Heavens forbid the _pirate_ would dare be the first to crack, even under such a stoic gaze as the brandished knight possessed.

Well, as stoic as a gaze could be when a man simply seeks his designated inn room to find pirate and desert thief at each other in the most carnal, shameful, beautiful way. Yes, it was Vaan who offered first on seeing Basch's unwelcome presence, the pout of his lip shimmering with saliva and pre-come, matching the sheen of Balthier's hard cock; and Basch had to catch his breath before his knees decided to buckle beneath him.

"Ever heard of knocking?" There was a snarl furled between Balthier's words like an Ozmone snake; twisting, testing, ever present and always hiding. Ringed fingers still curled over the crown of Vaan's head, as if the pirate was trying to pull that gaze from Basch back to that aching spot between the pirate's legs.

Basch's words caught in his throat; he had none to say, by the gods! His tongue swelled and thickened and _for the sake of all things modest, look away_! he told his eyes, but they looked on, between blond hair and an Archadian scowl. This had not been the sight he imagined looking at on entering their shared quarters for the night. Albeit Basch was aware that both pirate and thief shared intimate feelings for one another, he never fathomed witnessing this, though he should have known; the way Balthier coaxed Vaan from the local bar, the way both men's eyes shimmered with anticipated lust, the way Vaan's hips brushed against Balthier's as they left just an hour ago.

He stood there, fish-mouthing and agape, with Balthier's unrelenting gaze and Vaan's curious twinkle in those eyes.

"M-my apologies for the ... intrusion," Basch attempted to start somewhere, anywhere, and an apology was an impulse he learned from his days spent in a cage; every word was a condolence.

"Good, you are excused; with no recollection of what you've seen, mind." Again, Balthier's voice was the bloody bite of a lobo, and Basch would have flinched had he not been frozen to the spot.

It was Vaan's words that thawed the ice, that caused Basch's features to relax considerably. "He can stay if he wants."

And that was enough to make Basch cock his head back in surprise. Balthier, too, thought the notion surprising; there he was, spread-legged and hard as any man would be with such a boy between his legs, yet the expression on his face was of a strange contemplation. Basch watched Balthier's gaze travel to the desert boy, then to him, and back and forth; a judging eye of a coeurl, ready to pounce. It wasn't until Basch noted the smirk twisting at the edges of Balthier's lips did he realize, perhaps he was not as ill-thought-of as he first perceived.

Or, perhaps the pirate was just more curious. That seemed plausible. But no, _no_, Basch would not let himself consider this act with pirate and thief; that was their business and theirs alone, a bond they shared and Basch knew well to stay out of. Matters of heart and matters of lust, especially when they were far from matters of his own, irked Basch to distance himself from any closeness that could result in further consequences. And so the captain closed his eyes and looked away, shameful that more than one of his heads was throbbing, warming.

"I do not hold the want to stay," he managed to say, opening his eyes on hearing footsteps. Yes, it was Vaan who started it all.

"You're such a bad liar," he chided, stopping in front of the man. He was naked and beautiful, not a line of skin contrast marring his body because_ yes_, Basch indulged in the shame of looking at the younger man's bare form; Vaan was hard, too, and no doubt inebriated though Basch could not smell an abundance of the alcoholic stench.

He did not move. Curiosity and mortification bound him to the floorboards. His eyes gazed behind Vaan to find Balthier still seated on the edge of the bed, sweating and aching and looking none-too-pleased that his desert thief was far from sucking range. The pirate said nothing. Basch was grateful.

A light touch grazed his skin and sliced through his musings. Basch looked down to find Vaan's fingers tracing the hard lines of his exposed biceps, tensed and darkened from days of hunting in the Westersand for some rare breed of Lobo; and in that shared glance of boy and man, Basch saw a glint of mischief in Vaan's eyes akin to that species of wolfish fiend. His fingers twitched.

"I should not—" he began, again, swallowing thickly but touching Vaan anyway, touching him back and _gods,_ it sent hot sparks in all the wrong and right places. The boy leaned into his touch.

"But you wanna, don't you?" Vaan's question was rhetorical, Basch could tell in the curve of his lips. The captain felt filthy and alive under Vaan's traveling touch, and felt a small ache of envy that the pirate had this touch, those lips, this boy at his disposal any time he wished.

Basch figured it was about time he had a sample, too.

"Don't interrogate the poor man; can't you see he's as frightened as a baby chocobo?" Balthier sneered, and Basch cursed the man for making Vaan tear his gaze away.

" `M just softening him up," he countered. Basch stood silent and tense, despite the gnawing urge to turn to child's putty at Vaan's touch and voice and _gods, gods the boy still had a smear of pre-come on his lower lip_. Vaan's gaze was that of a vulture, if vultures could ever wish to have the grace of a panther and face of a seraph and voice of Tchita's wind on a warm summer day.

The boy had the man at his mercy. Vaan continued to touch Basch and these moments passed by like hours when they were just seconds, and that's all it took for Basch to surrender and Vaan to open the buttons of his casual collared shirt. Basch didn't have time to feel Balthier's smoldering green gaze latch to him, because Vaan was there and Vaan was beautiful, and willing, and young and inebriated and—

"No," Basch suddenly rasped, grasping Vaan's shoulders and setting a forced space between them. He cast the boy a firm gaze. "I cannot. You are—"

But the gods-be_damned_ boy wouldn't allow an explanation, and came forward again with the agility of a pickpocket and lips of a lustful demon; they were kissing, or rather, Basch was _being_ kissed, and soon touched, and then a door shut.

"Wouldn't want any a passerby to see this," Balthier said. Balthier, who was up and standing in more ways than one and leaning against the door. At some point in time between this madness he traded his moods, exchanging his scowl for a smirk, and envy for some kind of sick, curious mirth.

And then the door locked, ringer fingers poised perfectly about the latch. "Best listen to the boy, fon Ronsenburg. He's an insatiable little minx," Balthier said, a smile snaking through his voice.

"I—I do not understand," he finally blurted, the taste of Vaan's lips and Balthier's essence sampled on his lips. He licked it away with some sort of satisfaction that went straight to his cock. He could hear Balthier's sigh and knew the man was rolling his eyes behind him, poised naked and lean against the woodwork of the door.

"Nor do I, but does anything Vaan do hold a semblance of rationality?" he mused, and Vaan said nothing, only scrutinized Basch further with touches that were awakening desires he had buried long, long ago.

_Rationality_! Basch almost laughed aloud at the concept. There was nothing _rational_ in this whole situation, there was nothing at all _rational_ in being seduced by a younger man – a boy, no less – and enjoying it so, and there was nothing _rational_ about—

And then Basch looked back into Vaan's eyes and forgot what he was thinking about.

Basch surrendered to the light, the beacon that was Vaan; small but muscled and lithe and holding at least a shred of want for him, for Basch fon Ronsenburg. And that was a nectar sweet enough for him to sever ties from reluctance, at least for the time being.

He kissed the boy, soft but earnest on the mouth, his hands seeking an unsure journey about the expanse of his waist and back. Soft and warm, soft and warm; everywhere he touched it was hot and smooth, and he wondered, eyes closed and lips against Vaan's pressing ones, what if would feel like to bury his throbbing prick into that boy over and over and over again.

Vaan's tongue was wicked and viscous, prodding against his lips. Basch did not know what to do – he had not kissed in years, did not remember how to please another's mouth with his own, but he parted them anyway and let Vaan show him how. The blond's hands were tracing his stubble, relaxing his jaw and coercing Basch's tongue into some spar of saliva and passion, of tangible and intangible paradise.

"Military men are so greedy." Balthier's voice swam in Basch's ears, somehow heard over the chorus and orchestra of noises exploding in the oldest man's mind from these touches. And then he startled, breaking this kiss with a string of saliva and rather obscene smack of the lips, as the pirate began to disrobe him. "You can't very well expect to be welcome here and not take off your garments, captain. `Twould be rude, I think," Balthier mused as if stripping a man fourteen years his senior was as mundane an act as breathing.

"He's right, y'know," Vaan agreed, voice soft and suggestive; Basch silently cursed the pirate for making Vaan so aware of what words could do to a man.

They stripped him in silence, Balthier in the back and Vaan in the front, and there was something about Balthier's touches across the war-marred expanse of his back that unnerved Basch. He wanted to shy away from the eyes that would judge what time and mistakes had done to his fleshy canvas of skin and bone and muscle, but found that being sandwiched between two stunningly attractive young men made such an act difficult.

"Hard already," Vaan breathed, in awe and excitement that only a teenage boy possessing healthy hormones could have. And hard Basch was indeed, his body aching and cock drooling. Vaan was on his knees, urging Basch out of his shorts and undergarments while Baltheir had thrown his shirt down earlier before and began teasing his nipples. Basch's bolts loosened and he moaned, he moaned at the touches and that faint after-tingle of Vaan's lips on his own, he moaned at the sinful pleasure of it all.

"Pretty voice, captain. A little louder, though, would prove to be encouraging for our fledgling at fellatio," Balthier whispered hot into his ear, and Basch didn't have time to register what that meant, exactly, before his thick girth was wreathed in a hot, moist, eager mouth.

Had it not been for Balthier's reflexes of hooking his arms under Basch's, the man would have buckled from the premature pleasure of it all. Nothing should have felt that good that quick, but by every Esper thrown from the haven of the Gods itself could not hold a candle to the earth-shattering euphoria of it all.

"A fast learner, just look at that," Balthier whispered into Basch's ear before nipping again, looking down at his apprentice with pride. Basch somehow mustered the strength to open his own eyes as well, and the sight of Vaan bobbing his head between his legs and sucking furiously made him feel both liberated and disgusted. Basch moaned again and thrust his hips forward; this earned a miffed groan from Vaan which, although it vibrated straight down his length, Basch took as a warning to restrain himself.

"Careful now, don't hurt my apprentice," Balthier chastised, tweaking and twisting Basch's nipples. The captain arched but managed to glance behind him at Balthier's twinkling gaze.

"You've…denied all claims that he…is your apprentice," he managed to pant, feeling his orgasm looming. Balthier chuckled and captured Basch's mouth quickly.

"Apprentice at pirating is one thing; apprenticing at bedding is another," Balthier clarified, and Basch would have rolled his eyes at the comment.

"So…what I interrupted was some form of…_tutoring_," he gasped, unable to fight the knee-jerk urge to twitch towards the sucking mouth. Balthier licked the shell of his ear again.

"Precisely."

And then Vaan stopped, sliding his mouth from Basch's thick cock with a gasp and wiping his lips. Basch tried to convince himself that the whimper wasn't his own.

"Gods, so big," Vaan breathed, licking the circumference of that gorgeous mouth. "Thick," he added, watching in fascination as a bead of pre-come slid down Basch's length and to the root of his cock.

Basch wanted to yell _why in heavens did you stop_, but before he could, Balthier was already shoving him towards the bed.

"I thought you liked them big," Balthier chuckled to Vaan, but his eyes were roaming all over Basch's front as the captain lay down on the bed. His cheeks were flushed and sweat beaded his brown and the golden curls of his chest, which was thumping at the rate his heart hammered; a Jaharan war drum, pounding in passionate tempo. He wanted more.

Balthier's legs were spread on either side of Basch, and soon Vaan joined them on the large mattress, on his hands and knees.

"What should we do to him now?" Vaan wondered aloud, leaning down to kiss Basch again and allowing the man to taste his own on Vaan's lips. It was a mixture between disgusting and delicious; perhaps it was the concept that was disgusting and the taste that was delicious, he was not sure. Balthier hovered over Basch and rubbed his thighs soothingly, while Vaan's mouth had its way with the captain's neck, jaw, and abdomen. Occasionally Balthier leaned down to kiss Basch again, their tongues brushing and twisting against each other. Balthier's mouth was talented, Basch would give him that, and he nearly moaned at the thought of what that mouth would do to his cock as well.

Basch was in a daze, a pure, euphoric daze. Even as Balthier's talented hands were circling the insides of his thighs, Basch still felt close to the precipice and he did not want to come yet. He wanted more – he didn't know what specifically, but he wanted whatever it was and soon. He propped himself up on his elbows with some effort.

Vaan stopped his oral ministrations on his ear and gazed down at Balthier. The pirate caught his gaze, and Basch watched in astonishment; the game of pirate and thief seemed hundreds of years old, the language they spoke with their eyes.

And then apprentice and mentor were kissing, Balthier splayed on both sides of Basch and Vaan's hard cock pointed pleadingly in Basch's direction once the boy stood only on his knees. He watched the two nip and lick and lash their tongues against each other, Vaan far more vocal in his pleasures than Balthier.

The scent of sweat and sex permeated Basch's nostrils and made him dizzy, and so he sated this unknown want by taking Vaan's dribbling prick slowly in his mouth, licking the underside of the shaft and teasing the head with light sucks. It was a taste Basch had before, from heated days in the barracks, but it had been long ago and somehow he knew Vaan was the sweetest he had ever tasted yet. The desert child moaned, breaking the kiss and tilting his head upward to the ceiling. Basch watched despite the awkward angle as he worked, and felt his own cock twitch at the sight of candlelight against the bronzed expanse of Vaan's skin, and the somehow beautiful fit of Balthier's mouth on Vaan's neck.

A passionate exchange on this journey was not something Basch expected, but craved nonetheless. As he'd been watching the dance of love and lust between pirate and thief for the past month, he felt his heart aching for something he knew he couldn't have; and although Basch was used to such an insatiable desire, it still hurt.

But there was no hurt in this twisted reality now; pain turned to pleasure, desires doused and ignited again, and he didn't care if it was just this night as long as he could dabble in the pleasantry of getting what he wanted.

Vaan's thick essence coasted his tongue and Basch worked faster, wanting that boy to come so badly and feel his trembling release and hear that gorgeous, shuddering moan. Balthier was still kissing Vaan's neck and shoulder, caressing his tousled blond locks, and somehow the sight made Vaan's taste all the more sweater.

"Wait—wait, B-Basch…stop," Vaan gasped. And Basch did, with reluctance and confusion; Balthier, too, peered at Vaan most curiously. The blond was still panting, chest rising and falling as he tried to say something with that pretty voice. "I want—I want you to…to fuck me," he blurted the last portion with some reluctance, and Basch didn't miss the miffed expression curtain Balthier's features. Somehow, this flared pride within Basch's stuttering chest. But it scared him, too.

"You want me to…" he repeated again, and Vaan changed positions; Balthier accommodated Vaan despite his unenthused twist of the lips. Basch glanced at Balthier, who was trying ever-so-hard to mask his irritation; and as much as Basch did want to fuck Vaan into the mattress, he had the inkling that if that happened, things would change between the pirate and thief – things that weren't going to be good. Balthier was a possessive man and although Basch had wants, he was far more used to not getting them than Balthier. So he allowed the pirate the luxury of taking Vaan instead.

With heated, mumbled nothings and pants and groans, they all eventually changed positions and Balthier was at the headboard. Vaan was on his back, thighs spread – gods, the boy had luscious thighs – on each side of the pirate, who held them tightly as anchors as he fucked the living daylights out of his thief. And Basch, Basch followed Vaan's grunts and high gasps with teasing sucks and licks again, his hand working lightly over his own cock.

It was amusingly obvious Vaan didn't know whose name to moan at every moment. Between threads of gasps and pleasured grunts, there were hesitated "Ba…" sounds, sometimes ending in _lthier _and sometimes ending in _sch; _the latter always made Basch's cock twitch delightfully. He couldn't see Vaan's head but he could imagine what he looked like; his hair fanned out behind his head and on the light blue sheets; his sun-kissed face was tinged with a pretty blush, perfect white teeth nibbling that pouty lower lip whenever he wanted to bite back a moan. Basch could hear it in the eager twitches of his hips and cock.

And Balthier was making an array of noises himself, repeated grunts in time with his thrusts. Basch watched at an awkward angle, Balthier sheathing his cock within Vaan over and over again, the sound of skin against skin intoxicating. The scent, too, was overwhelming, and had Basch's eyes rolling to the back of his head as he sucked Vaan harder, played his dick faster, twisting up at his leaking head and tightening on each upstroke.

Vaan came first, shouting and moaning no one's name in particular, just a series of _ahhh, ahhh, ahhhh_; Balthier came not long after, with a shuddering grunt and a heavy whisper of Vaan's name.

Basch came last, mouth away from Vaan's cock but needing to bite something, and so he nibbled the boy's thighs and thrust his hips in time with the waves of pleasure taking him to worlds anew, past the limits of the sky and back home.

Basch was home again, for a few stretched moments, a line of white streaking his chiseled abdomen, and somehow he could feel the crisp breeze against his skin and cool Ale against his lips.

And then he was asleep, warm and sated with a happily thumping heart. The sounds melted and faded to black, but the memories, oh, they stayed.

He awoke in the midst of the night, or perhaps early morning, to find the candle stick down to its last centimeter; its flame flicked and seized shadows against the wall. He felt the warm, enveloping feeling of bodies against his own. Balthier was on his left, curled into himself, predictably. Idly Basch wondered if things had improved or disintegrated between them.

He would find out soon.

To his right, curled against him, fingers and arms and all, was Vaan; even in his sleep he pouted and sought warmth. Basch tightened his grip around both of them, arms eagled out, and he fell back to sleep, a captain between pirate and thief.

He slept again with a smile on his face; for the time being, this was home.


End file.
